


Watching

by Hijja



Category: Cantarella
Genre: Double Drabble, Jealousy, M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-07
Updated: 2011-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-20 05:40:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hijja/pseuds/Hijja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taddeo knows he shouldn't watch them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the anonymous Cantarella Kink Meme at la_cantarella on LJ, with a bit of arm-twisting encouragement from Liriaen. Prompt: voyeurism. My mental canon is based on the German translation of the manga - so Taddeo it is, rather than Tagio.

Taddeo knows he shouldn't watch them. He should keep watch, because Cesare has enemies and the whore he's currently fucking is the one paid to guard his rooms and shield his back; but Taddeo shouldn't _watch_. And yet, there is something hypnotic in the sinuous tangle of limbs on Cesare's bed. So he watches.

He watches Cesare's body bend over the assassin's, whose face is pressed into the pillow, averted from Taddeo's eyes. The murderer's hair sticks out in sweat-darkened spikes.

He watches Cesare's back, the tense coil of spine and buttocks radiating ferocity contained to pleasure his slut. Taddeo wouldn't permit him to hold back no matter the cost, not with Cesare's need crackling off him like lightning.

The hem of Cesare's cardinal's robe still haphazardly covers one buttock and leg, a mantle of blood dulled by the smoke that drifts lazily off a coal brazier lighted to do battle with the humid night. The pair, moving below the open alcove, doesn't notice, but the acrid smoke stings Taddeo's eyes.

A soft gasp, an arch of the back that makes the vertebrae stand out like buttons under milky skin says that Cesare has taken his pleasure. He leans forward, whispers against the assassin's neck. Michelotto half-turns, the semblance of stunned innocence narrowing into a predatory glint. Taddeo's hand flies to his dagger as the assassin rolls over, tumbling Cesare onto his back and capturing his wrists above his head. Presses him down into the pillows.

Taddeo's blade, well-oiled, whispers out of its sheath; there is no loyalty in this hired killer, nor honour. One day he will turn upon his master, that much Taddeo is sure of. Perhaps today?

It is Cesare's face that makes him freeze in mid-move. Cesare's eyes, heavy-lidded and sultry like a pampered cat's, the smile that tickles his lips as he looks up at the assassin. Cesare parts his thighs, lets them splay open to accommodate Michelotto in between; reaches up for the assassin's body while his hair drips over the pillow in tendrils of spilled ink.

Taddeo turns away before he has to watch his master opening himself to this whore lifted up from the sewers.

His hand burns from the crushing grip on the dagger's handle; when he finally prises his fingers away, the outline of Cesare Borgia's coat of arms blazes in the centre of his palm.

He presses the swelling mark to his lips, and straightens his back. He will resume his vigil. Someone has to watch.

  


_~ finis ~_  


**Author's Note:**

> Written in March 2009.


End file.
